The Monster Within
by PavLuvsPercyJackson
Summary: "C'mon Stiles," He whispered with tear-filled eyes. "Please, don't give up. You can't leave us, we need you. I need you, Stiles, you're my brother, and I can't lose you." ... "Scott, you have to do something!" The Nogitsune is defeated, and Stiles collapses. Desperate to save him, Lydia begs Scott to give him the bite, even though they know that Stiles might never forgive them.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys!**

 **So this is my first Teen Wolf fic, and I recently re-watched almost every episode in anticipation for the return of season 5B, and I have fallen in love with the idea of Stiles receiving the bite.**

 **This story will take place after 3B, and will have parts from season 4, and it will be Stydia, even though I do really like Stalia. I am also debating on whether or not I might have the Nogitsune come back at a later point, because I really love Void Stiles, so just let me know!**

 **Anyway, let's get on with the story!**

 **Please feel free to drop a review, I would really appreciate it ;D**

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Lydia felt nothing but the overwhelming fear that surrounded her mind and her heart when she saw Stiles' amber eyes roll back as he became a complete dead weight in her arms, collapsing to the floor, too heavy for her to support.

Dread made her stomach roll as she called out Stiles' name. The dark circles under his closed eyes looked even more pronounced against his deathly pale skin, his forehead covered in a sheen of sweat, his lips colourless and cracked. He looked just like Void, he looked unbelievably sick.

Void had told her himself that Stiles was dying, they had even contemplated on whether destroying the Nogistune would kill him too. He hadn't cared.

But Stiles couldn't die. He _wouldn't!_

Lydia and Scott both fell to their knees beside the boy, Isaac and Kira standing behind them with worry and concern contorting their expressions.

Scott took his best friend's face in his trembling hands. Black veins popped up against his skin, even though he hadn't been trying to take Stiles' pain. Scott grimaced and let out a small yelp, overwhelmed by the pure agony that Stiles was enduring.

"C'mon Stiles," He whispered with tear-filled eyes. "Please, don't give up. You can't leave us, we need you. I need you, Stiles, you're my brother, and I can't lose you."

Lydia gripped Stiles' hand tight, hoping that it would elicit some sort of reaction. His skin was ice cold, his hand lifeless in hers. The only sign that he was even alive was the barely noticeable rise of his chest with each sputtering breath he took. She could hear him struggling to take in air.

She pressed two fingers to the inside of Stiles' wrist, straining to find his pulse. Weak, rapidly fading against her skin.

"Scott, you have to do something!" She begged, looking at the alpha imploringly.

Scott's eyes widened as he realized what she was implying. He looked down at Stiles, he could barely hear his heartbeat. "But Lydia...I-I can't do that to him, he's never wanted the bite."

Lydia stared at him in outrage. "Scott, he's dying!" She understood his hesitation; it couldn't be easy to do that to your best friend, and Stiles had always insisted that he wanted to stay human, but they had no choice, they couldn't let him die. " _Please."_

She'd already lost Allison, she didn't want to lose Stiles as well.

A tear fell down Scott's cheek as he looked thoughtfully at his best friend. He hadn't wanted any of his friends to go through what he did when he got the bite from Peter, especially not Stiles.

Just the thought of having that kind of power over Stiles, being his alpha and being able to force him to do things. It made him sick to the stomach, he didn't want to be able to do that to Stiles. Stiles might never forgive him, he mightn't forgive any of them.

But he couldn't let him die.

Scott looked to Kira and Isaac. Isaac knew what would happen to Stiles, would he approve of doing it?

Wiping her tear-streaked cheeks, Kira looked at their dying friend and gave a subtle nod. Isaac worried at his lip slightly, before he nodded too.

Scott swallowed. Lydia was holding Stiles' limp hand to her face, using her other to brush his hair from his forehead. Scott could hear Stiles' strained breathing, his weak heartbeat, he didn't have long. Not long enough to get to the hospital.

"Ok," he whispered slightly.

Another tear fell from his eye as he took Stiles' other hand in his and raised it towards him. He felt his teeth grow longer and sharper, his eyesight became better as he showed his true eyes, his blood-red alpha gaze.

Lydia closed her eyes tightly. She couldn't bare to watch. She just pressed her face into Stiles' hand and tried to pretend like he was awake and living and comforting her.

She heard Scott whisper, "I'm so sorry, Stiles," his voice muffled by his fangs, before there was the horrible sound of punctured flesh.

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Isaac and Scott lifted Stiles carefully into the Jeep, followed silently by Lydia and Kira.

Lydia wanted to believe that everything was ok now, Stiles was going to survive, but as much as she tried to ignore it, she could sense death.

She'd still sensed it after Stiles had been bitten, and when they saw Ethan lay his dead brother down on the ground, sobbing by Aiden's side, she thought she'd been predicting Aiden's death.

Allison, and now Aiden. Her best friend, and Aiden. She had never been entirely sure what she felt for Aiden, but she had really liked him. It seemed like Void had been targeting everyone she cared about.

Lydia and Isaac both sat in the back, with Stiles lying over them with his head in Lydia's lap. Scott was driving, Kira sitting shotgun.

Scott and Derek had talked about what to do, and had agreed that taking Stiles to the animal clinic was the best thing to do. If Stiles did turn and wake up, he wouldn't be able to get through the mountain ash, and he wouldn't be able to hurt people.

Lydia almost couldn't stomach the thought of Stiles killing someone, at least not as himself. She wondered whether his actions as the Nogistune counted? Would his eyes glow blue because of what the demon had made him do?

She pushed the thought away and ran her fingers through Stiles' dark hair. The bite on his wrist hadn't healed yet, but his breathing had steadied slightly, which she hoped meant that he'd get better.

They spent the drive in silence, each attempting to come to terms with had happened. Isaac still clutched the box that contained the Nogitsune with a death grip, and Lydia almost wanted to throw it out the window to get it away from Stiles.

Kira held one of Scott's trembling hands. He had barely spoken a word to any of them but Derek after he'd given Stiles the bite.

About ten minutes later, Scott parked the Jeep at the back of the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic. At this hour of the night it should've been closed, but Derek had called ahead and Deaton was waiting for the them, holding the gate open so the werewolves could get in.

Deaton had a perfect poker face, as he usually did. He didn't ask about the bite on Stiles' arm, he didn't fuss about. He just told Scott and Isaac to lay the unconscious boy down on the clear examination table, instructing each of them to get him some things from the storeroom in the back.

Moments later, the clinic was closed and surrounded with another circle of mountain ash, Deaton had taken all of Stiles' vitals and hooked him up to an IV drip. The vet cleaned the dried blood away from Stiles' wrist, taking a closer look at the bite.

"Well, it's stopped bleeding, but it hasn't healed much other than that." Deaton told them, cleaning his hands.

Lydia frowned. "Does that mean it didn't work?"

"I didn't say that," Deaton assured her. "I just mean that nothing's happened yet. It could take a bit longer because of his condition."

"But is his condition getting better?"

Deaton shrugged and looked to the two werewolves in the room. "You tell me. Is his heartbeat stronger than before?"

Isaac and Scott nodded simultaneously. They had noticed it almost as soon as Scott had bitten Stiles, his heart had given a sharp jolt, like the bite had given it a jump start, and had been going steady ever since. It was still alarmingly quiet, even if it was beating.

"We'll just have to keep an eye on him."

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The pack waited at the animal clinic for hours.

They'd all texted their parents, and Scott had let Sheriff Stilinski know what was going on. He'd been absolutely frantic, but Scott had somehow managed to convince him that it was best to stay away for the moment, until they knew for sure.

After a couple hours, the bite on Stiles' arm had started to get smaller. It was healing, though not all at once like it did with Scott, Derek and Isaac. Another sixty minutes and the bite was gone completely.

Lydia almost couldn't contain her relief when she saw the wounds disappear. She pushed down the dread, drowned the feeling of unease. Whispering in the back of her mind, voices warned her of what they had done, warned her to be cautious. But they couldn't possibly be warning her about Stiles, because the Nogistune was gone and he was himself again.

Besides, the real Stiles wouldn't hurt her, he wouldn't hurt any of them. Werewolf or not.

By now his skin had regained a bit of colour, the dark circles under his eyes were beginning to fade. Lydia just wanted him to wake up, she wanted him to be better.

"Why hasn't he woken up yet? The bite healed." She questioned, turning around to face Deaton.

"He shouldn't be asleep for much longer, Lydia, don't worry." Scott answered instead, grasping her shoulder and giving her an encouraging smile.

Even when his best friend was lying unconscious on a table, after being turned into a werewolf to prevent him from dying, you could always count on Scott to be optimistic.

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Stiles wasn't entirely sure what was going on.

He could hear everything, literally _everything._ He heard a collection of heartbeats, rustling of wind, nocturnal animals, footsteps. He heard voices, some higher pitched than others.

He could smell blood and grief, worry and the stench of anxiety wafting through the room.

He was lying on something cold and hard. Whatever it was wasn't comfortable at all.

He could feel something pulling at his gut, something like instinct.

Stiles was aware of everything that was going on around him, but he couldn't put it into context, he couldn't understand the situation. He couldn't move, couldn't make a noise, couldn't open his eyes. He didn't remember how he'd come to be here.

The annoyingly familiar voices were growing in volume, one of them moving back and forth like whoever it belonged to was pacing back and forth at his side.

Stiles was startled when he felt something touch his forehead, but his body didn't react. He felt someone brushing his hair back, but he couldn't move.

The person touching his hair smelled like strawberry, vanilla and concern. Was the person concerned for him? He didn't know why he could smell their emotions, had he always been able to do that?

For what seemed like an eternity, he lay there completely immobile. Every now and then someone would touch him, grabbing his hand or feeling his face, but it just became increasingly difficult to tell them apart.

The room was just a jumble of sounds and smells and emotions. The intense tugging at his gut had grown stronger as time went on, before it almost disappeared for hours on end.

When it returned, it was sharper than it had been before, almost impossible to ignore, and getting more prominent.

Soon he found that he could move again, if only a little. He could move his fingers, feel the pain as his fingernails seemed to grow at unnatural speed. He could move his jaw, feeling his sharp teeth poking at his gums and lips.

The voices around him weren't speaking words to him, but he was able to hear the nervousness in their tone. They were getting frantic.

They were scared of something.

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The group all snapped back to attention when Isaac noticed Stiles' hand move.

They watched nervously as his nails grew into claws, and Deaton cautiously reached forward and lifted Stiles' lip, showing his sharp fangs.

Night had fallen again a few hours ago; Stiles had been sleeping all day. Derek had arrived earlier in the day, understandably, Ethan hadn't come with him. The moon was full tonight, which meant that he should wake up any minute now.

Scott looked out the window of the clinic, seeing the clouds concealing the light of the moon. "Derek, Isaac, get ready. Lydia, Kira, Deaton, maybe you should wait in the reception."

Kira looked more than a little miffed at being told to get behind the line of mountain ash, but Scott didn't want any of them around four werewolves under the influence of the full moon, especially since none of them could heal. And besides, if something happened and Stiles somehow managed to get past the barrier, Kira would be able to protect Lydia.

And Stiles would never be able to forgive himself if he did something to Lydia.

The three of them hurried out of the room like Scott asked, and Isaac and Derek allowed their claws to come out. Scott held out a hand, gesturing for them to wait. The werewolves watched the window, growing more apprehensive as the clouds moved over the moon.

Suddenly, the clouds had passed and the full moon's light flooding the room, bathing Stiles in a silvery glow. Scott felt his eyes start to burn bright, blood red.

Isaac's eyes glow amber-gold, Derek's glowed blue. Scott almost dreaded finding out what colour Stiles' eyes would be.

Until now, Scott didn't really believe that this was happening. There was no way that he'd turned his best friend into a werewolf. Stiles would wake up just fine, completely human like he'd always been.

A low, rumbling growl emitted from Derek's throat as he saw Stiles' hand flex. The teen grasped the edge of the table he lay on, pulling himself into a sitting position.

And then he opened his eyes.

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 **Thanks for reading! This wasn't my best piece of writing, and I know that writers say this all the damn time, but I promise that the next chapter will be much better!**

 **I just wanted to get past the waiting stage and get onto the action! I'm sorry for kinda brushing off Aiden's death, I really love the twins, maybe Ethan will come back at some stage.**

 **Also, I'm sure a lot of you will be happy to know that Isaac and Argent will not be leaving in this fic! Scott is really gonna need their help**

 **Please review, hopefully the next update won't be too far away ;P**


	2. Chapter 2

**Woah guys! Thank you all so much for your reviews! I wake up and I already have 8, almost 50 followers, and its in a community, on a story that I didn't think would get many readers :D**

 **To the Guest who asked me to make Stiles something other than a werewolf, let me know if you had anything particular in mind and I'll see what the other readers think ;P**

 **Now, onto the next chapter!**

* * *

Stiles opened his eyes, finally finding the freedom of movement.

His vision was washed in red, the only thing he could see was a small group of figures. He didn't know what they were, but he could see their warmth, which meant that they were alive. Which meant that they were prey.

The tugging sensation in his gut was almost maddeningly insistent.

Stiles bared his fangs at the figures in the room, registering two of them responded in a similar way. Alarm bells rang in his head, and Stiles brandished his claws and attacked.

Scott felt regret and disappointment drag down his heart as Stiles regarded them. Strangely enough, the boy that no one had ever really thought of as threatening seemed bigger than he used to be. He was intimidating, and it made Scott sick to think of what he'd turned his best friend into.

Stiles had growled deep in his throat, and stupidly Isaac and Derek had answered. Seeing them as nothing more than a threat, Stiles lunged for them.

The three of them moved to dodge, but Stiles was fast and agile. He pushed off the wall behind them, raking his razor claws down Derek's back. The former alpha let out a pained roar, turning back around to the face the beta.

Derek and Isaac pushed forward and each of them grabbed one of Stiles' arms. They pressed him back against the wall, trying to restrain him. Stiles snapped at them, growling and snarling.

"Stiles, stop! You need to calm down." Scott said, hoping to get through to his friend. He looked Stiles in the eye, helping Derek and Isaac hold him back.

Stiles kicked out, his foot colliding with Scott's leg with so much force that he snapped the bone in the alpha's shin. Falling to the ground, Scott had a feeling that he would've been done for already if not for the other two keeping Stiles off him.

Scott howled in agony as he grasped his broken leg, before pressing the bone back into place with shaking hands. Already starting to heal, he stood.

"Scott, you have to roar at him, that's the only way you can get him to stop." Derek insisted, starting to lose his hold.

Scott didn't want to roar at Stiles. But then he saw Stiles tearing into Isaac's torso, and he knew that he had to take control of his new beta. Going full wolf, Scott opened his mouth and let loose a bellowing howl so loud that the objects in the room shook.

"STILES!"

For a agonizingly long moment, Stiles didn't stop and Scott was beginning to think that Stiles had ignored him, had refused his leadership as the alpha. But then he stopped.

He stopped pressing against Isaac and Derek, stopped ripping the two to shreds. His claws and fangs slowly retracted, and Stiles looked mournfully at Scott.

His cold, ice blue eyes faded back into bright, whiskey brown.

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The pack once again stood around the examination table in Deaton's clinic.

Stiles sat on the table, completely silent as Deaton checked him over, making sure he was okay. Stiles refused to look at anyone, he hadn't said a word since he had woken up.

Scott, Isaac and Derek hadn't told the others about his glowing blue eyes, knowing that now Stiles would be able to hear them. Scott knew that keeping the colour of his eyes from him wouldn't end well, especially if Stiles was already mad at him for turning him into a werewolf.

"Well, Stiles, you seem to have recovered very well. You'll be alright." Deaton concluded, after finally getting Stiles to look at him.

He nodded slightly, and the silence that followed was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. _Or with one of my new claws,_ Stiles thought.

Stiles didn't remember what had happened after he'd woken up, but when he realized that three werewolves were holding him back against a wall, he'd gotten a pretty good idea. Not to mention that fact that he knew he was supposed to be dead, he'd collapsed and was dying.

"Stiles?" Lydia asked gently, and Stiles turned his gaze upward. She had stepped forward from the pack, and Stiles felt terrible when he noticed that she smelt like fear, under all her relief that he was alive.

Lydia was scared of him, and that was the last thing he'd ever wanted.

He gave her a slight smile, hoping to reassure her. "It's okay."

She stepped forward again, and he stood up straight and they practically fell into each other's arms. Lydia flung her hands around his neck and pulled him down into an embrace, holding onto him for dear life.

"Stiles, you're alive, I'm so glad you're alive." She whispered almost inaudibly into his shirt, but he heard her loud and clear.

Stiles gripped her tighter, running a hand over her hair. He didn't understand how she could even stand to be near him, after what Void had done in the tunnels under Oak Creek, knowing that he was a werewolf now.

As if hearing his thoughts, Lydia pulled away and took his face in her hands, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "Stiles, it's not your fault. What happened because of Void wasn't your fault."

He frowned slightly. "What happened? After I passed out at the school, Lydia, what happened to me?"

Lydia bit her lip as Stiles stepped back, addressing the entire pack.

"Stiles, I'm sorry," Scott began, but Stiles cut him off.

"You're _sorry?_ Scott, you turned me into a _werewolf!_ "

Scott was quick to defend himself, "You were dying! Do you really expect me to sit by and watch while my best friend dies, when there's something that I can do to save him. And even though I know that he never wanted it, I do it anyway because I, we, can't stand to lose anyone else. Allison and Aiden are dead, Stiles, I wasn't going to let you die too."

Stiles let out a deep breath, feeling anger begin to rise in his stomach. Trying to keep his voice even, he said, "I don't _want_ to be a werewolf."

"Neither did I, Stiles!" Scott exclaimed.

Taking control of the situation, Derek walked over to Stiles and took the younger man by the upper arm, starting to lead him to the reception area. Stiles protested halfheartedly.

"Derek, they can still hear us," Stiles pointed out when the former alpha whirled around to face him.

"That doesn't matter," Derek replied. "Stiles, you need to cut Scott some slack, ok?"

Stiles glared, his temper flaring again. "Why should I?"

"Don't be a dick! You have no idea how hard it is to turn someone you love, Scott did this so you would live, because we all know that the pack would fall apart without you. You just be grateful that he's your alpha, okay, you weren't turned by Peter like he was."

Trying hard to deny the logic behind Derek's words, Stiles gritted his teeth. He didn't want to forgive Scott that easily. "Derek, what colour are my eyes?"

"Brown..." Derek muttered uneasily.

"What colour are my eyes?!" Stiles yelled, lashed out with his fist and punching a hole in the wall.

Derek sighed, looking down at the floor. "They're blue."

Stiles shut his eyes tight, suddenly feeling incredibly weak at the knees. He pressed his forearms against the wall above his head, leaning against them. Even with his eyes closed, his vision swam with bright white light. His chest began to hurt and it was hard to breathe.

 _Oh my god, they're blue...blue,_ his thought wreaked havoc, _I'm a monster, it's all my fault. Allison's dead. Aiden's dead. I should be dead. My eyes are blue!_

"Stiles?" Derek said cautiously. He saw that blood was running down Stiles' arms from where his claws dug into his palms. His breathing was heavy and loud, but he didn't seem to be getting enough air.

After hearing the exchange, the pack had rushed in. Lydia cursed, rushing over to the boy. "Stiles. Stiles, look at me."

He shook his head frantically. "No...I'm a...m-monster." He gasped for breath between each word, on the edge of a panic attack.

"Stiles, you're not a monster. Ok? Show me your eyes."

Stiles shook his head again, turning his back to the wall and sliding to the floor. Lydia fell to her knees next to him. He had his eyes pressed stubbornly shut, and he clutched a bloody hand to his chest as if his heart hurt.

"Stiles, please. I want to see them." She said gently. She decided that she didn't care if his eyes showed that he'd killed innocents. Derek's were blue, so were Ethan's and Aiden's and Peter's. Even Malia Tate had blue eyes.

Lydia grabbed his hands, pulling them away from his chest and holding them tightly between them. "Please, show me."

Breathing rapidly, Stiles slowly turned his head toward the sound of her voice, before he opened his eyes. In his panic they kept flickering between their normal, honey brown and the glowing, cold blue. Oddly, Lydia could almost say that they suited him.

"You're not a monster. They're beautiful."

Stiles stared at her in bewilderment, his eyes returning to their normal colour. "Really?"

She nodded with a smile, brushing a hand through his hair. Gradually, her friend began to calm down. The members of the pack shifted uncomfortably behind them, most of them unsure about you to proceed.

Scott looked guiltily at Stiles. "I'm sorry."

"I know. It's okay." Stiles found himself saying, and it was. He realized that he couldn't blame Scott for wanting to save his best friend, Stiles would've done the same. And he'd never been able to stay mad at Scott for long anyway.

Scott held his hand out, and Stiles grasped it tightly, allowing the alpha to help him to his feet.

Scott was beyond relieved when Stiles accepted his help, but he could still feel the anger radiating from deep inside the beta. Whether it was because of his lack of control, or whether he was still mad at Scott but was choosing to try and move past it, Scott didn't know.

Whatever the case, he had a new beta, and something told him that he was going to be strong. Very strong.

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 **Sorry I didn't update for a little while there, I was on holidays and there wasn't any internet connection, but I got back yesterday and have been working at this very hard.**

 **This was a little short, and more of a filler chapter, but from here the action really starts to get going. If you any suggestions, feel free to tell me in the reviews or PM me ;P**

 **I know that most of the characters where OOC in this chapter, or they just didn't do anything at all, but I kinda struggle with writing characters well in a group setting where there are other characters to deal with, but I promise that I will work on that. If you guys see anything else that I can work on, I'd love to hear about it xD**

 **Please R &R! ;D**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys xD**

 **Thanks so much for your reviews. I completely agree, Stiles is not the type of person to let people tell him what to do, but we'll be getting into more of that later on ;P**

 **Super big thanks to Average Canadian, the amazingly awesome person who has been editing this for me ;D**

 **Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

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They didn't let Stiles leave until the sun came back up, and even then it had taken a lot of convincing.

He had assured them that it wasn't like when Scott had been bitten, he knew all about his situation. He was the one who had figured out what Scott was in the first place, it wouldn't be too hard to put what he'd learned into practice.

"I know you're the alpha Scott, but you can't always tell me what to do," He said, trying to sound like he wasn't irritated. "I just want to go home and sleep."

Scott glanced at Derek and Deaton, asking them through looks whether they thought it was safe to let him out. He gritted his teeth, and looked pleadingly at Lydia, the only other person besides from Deaton who wasn't affected by the mountain ash.

"Please, Lydia, can you open the gate?"

Lydia pursed her lips, staring into Stiles' face, trying to discern whether or not he was in control. Finally, she moved past Kira and Isaac, ignoring the other three, and she pushed the gate open gently, breaking the barrier that was keeping Kira and the werewolves inside the clinic.

Stiles smiled at her gratefully, walking through the gate towards the door. He didn't say another word to them as he exited the clinic and got in his Jeep.

Aware that the only other car here was Derek's, leaving most of them without a ride home, Stiles' turned the Jeep's ignition and pulled out of the park, driving onto the road and heading in the direction of his house.

When he was sure that the werewolves wouldn't be able to hear his car anymore, Stiles made a turn away from his house.

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"Lydia! What the hell?" Scott said after Stiles was out of ear-shot.

Lydia rolled her eyes at him. "C'mon Scott, he's your best friend, you don't honestly think that he's going to hurt someone do you?" She was already getting sick of them treating Stiles like was a bomb waiting to go off. Like the tiniest thing would set him off and he'd go on a rampage.

Stiles had a legitimate reason to be mad at them, but that didn't mean that now he was going to crazy.

Scott didn't answer her, and she decided not to interpret it as him actually thinking that his friend was going to kill someone. Still it made her fume; Stiles already thought he was a monster, he didn't need his brother agreeing with him.

Lydia wanted to go out after Stiles as soon as the door had closed behind him, but she knew that he needed some space, and some times to come to terms with his situation. She wasn't sure if it was good idea to leave him alone for long, though.

"We've all had a long couple of days, you kids should all head home and get some rest." Deaton said, breaking through the tense silence.

Derek looked like he was about to snap that he wasn't a kid, but he didn't say anything, merely scowled and headed out the door. Knowing that Derek was the only one with a car available and unsure if he would ever wait for them to get in, the rest of the pack filed out of the clinic, muttering thanks to Deaton.

Isaac took shotgun, leaving Scott, Kira and Lydia in the back seat.

"Should we go check Stiles' house, just to make sure he's okay?" Kira asked, trying not to sound like she was suggesting that they follow him.

Scott nodded in agreement, ignoring Derek's look of exasperation as he told the older werewolf to drive to the Stilinski house.

As they drove, they were able to track Stiles' scent along the route to his place, until suddenly it disappeared. Or rather, it seemed to change. The smell of anxiety that always stuck to Stiles like glue was gone, all emotions were gone.

Like it wasn't even Stiles anymore.

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Stiles' strange new scent changed direction at the next turn in the road, heading away from his house and towards the outer regions of Beacon Hills.

"He's not going to the reserve? Is he?" Isaac said cautiously.

Lydia prayed that he wasn't, god knew how many horrible supernatural occurrences had happened in those woods. Why Stiles would want to go out there on his own- werewolf or not-or what he would do in there, Lydia didn't know.

Derek pondered Stiles' changed scent as he drove. Werewolf or not, your scent never changed that completely. You could always read people's emotions through their scent, but there was something permanent in it that would mark you, always leave you identifiable no matter how your appearance changed.

But Stiles' scent had become almost unrecognizable. The only distinguishing factor that matched the old scent was his werewolf smell-which was also different for each werewolf.

They had debated calling Deaton, but Scott didn't think that he would've encountered this before, not to mention, they'd said that they were going home. And of course, none of them wanted to talk to Peter about something like this. Peter was last resort.

Suddenly, Derek slammed his foot on the brake, bringing his Toyota to a screeching halt. His passengers jolted forward in their seats, but they were all focusing on the same thing.

Parked haphazardly on the side of the road, the front wheel mounting the curb, driver's door still hanging open, narrowly missing the car neatly parked in front of it, was an unmistakable blue Jeep. They pack hurriedly got out of Derek's car, running to Stiles' obviously abandoned vehicle.

"Oh shit," Isaac muttered, spotting the crushed steering wheel, eight identical indentations along it's surface. The driver's seatbelt had been ripped, and the rear-view mirror was cracked. Most worrisome of all, were the four tears in the door.

"His scent is still heading in the direction of the woods." Scott said, jumping behind the wrecked wheel of the Jeep. He turned the key in the ignition, feeling relatively surprised when the engine rolled over.

He quickly reversed the Jeep off the curb, and gestured for them to go back to the Toyota.

"Scott, what are you doing?" Lydia demanded, heading around to the passenger seat instead of following the others.

Scott waited for Derek's car to pass them before he shifted into first and pulled out onto the road, moving forward into second gear, and then into third. "No one can find the Jeep like this or they'll think Stiles was attacked. Besides, if we find him, we won't all fit in the Toyota."

Lydia raised her eyebrows, slightly impressed at his reasoning. "And what if we don't find Stiles?"

Scott frowned. "We will."

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They parked the cars at the barrier that blocked the road from going further into the reserve, the pack members jumping out and scanning over the forest. The place was impossibly big and almost every tree was identical; it was going to take a long time to find him.

"Alright, where do we start?" Isaac asked, trying to separate the other scents around him from Stiles'.

Derek and Scott mimicked his behavior, and they all pointed in the direction that their friend had gone.

"This way."

Lydia and Kira exchanged an exasperated glance. They had pointed in three different directions. "Well, that's great. Which way did he go?"

"We'll have to split up, each of us following each trail." Scott instructed.

Derek headed off on his own, Kira obviously went with Scott, leaving Lydia and Isaac to follow the last trail.

They walked in uncomfortable silence, Lydia trusting that Isaac's senses would tell them where to go and prevent them from getting lost. She wanted to talk to him, but she couldn't for the life of her think of something to say.

They were both feeling Allison's loss, but she knew that he wouldn't want to talk about her. Still, Isaac looked completely focused on the task at hand, so she just walked beside him in silence.

They walked for so long that her feet began to ache. She tripped more than once, struggling to lift her feet high enough. Countless times, Isaac would lose the trail and they'd have to double-back until they found it again, and then continue in another direction.

"Honestly, what has he been doing this whole time?" She wondered allowed, placing her feet carefully as few steps behind her partner.

Isaac scoffed in agreement. "Surely he hasn't been wandering in the woods all day. It's been hours."

"You don't think one of the other's has already found him, do you?"

"No," Isaac shook his head. "They would've called us or something."

Lydia opened her mouth to reply, when Isaac suddenly stiffened and held a hand out to stop her.

"What is it?" Lydia whispered, looking around her.

Isaac's eyes darted through the trees, glowing yellow. "I smell something."

"Is it Stiles?" Excitement edged into her words, but was quickly squashed by the werewolf's next words.

"Not exactly."

Lydia frowned, following quietly as Isaac crept forward. They rounded a large tree, revealing a expanse of bare ground and a running track. On the other side, just behind the tree-line, was a sight that made Lydia's blood run cold.

Watching them with its head hanging threateningly low, blue eyes glowing in response to Isaac's, was a large dark grey wolf. Lydia and Isaac froze, seeing the wolf curl its lip back in a snarl, revealing rows of dangerously sharp teeth.

 _Is it Stiles? Not exactly..._ Lydia thought. Of course, she knew that Derek's mother had been able to fully transform into a wolf, and Stiles' scent had lead them here.

"Stiles?" Lydia said slowly, knowing the wolf would hear her voice even from where it stood. It growled low in its throat, before emitting a sharp, loud barking sound. Making complete eye contact with Lydia, the wolf trotted forward a few steps and then lay down, placing its head on its paws.

Lydia gaped, starting to walk towards the large animal. It seemed okay with her coming over, but as soon as Isaac began to follow, it snarled and snapped its jaws.

Isaac looked at Lydia with an almost hurt expression on his face, and if Lydia was right then she could see why he would be. "Maybe he just doesn't like other wolves?"

Begrudgingly, Isaac stayed back. Letting out a breath, Lydia continued to advance, hoping that the wolf -Stiles?- couldn't smell how afraid she was. The gray wolf didn't move a muscle as she came towards it, simply watching her movements with its eyes. They weren't glowing anymore, they were a normal light brown. Just like Stiles'.

Kneeling down in front of the wolf, she slowly reached out a hand. "Stiles?" She asked again, and this time he let out a whine in response.

"Oh my god..." She whispered, running her hand over Stiles' sleek gray fur. He was actually a wolf. Derek had told them that only very powerful werewolves could do this, and he hadn't even been a werewolf for an entire day.

Not to mention, it was past midday, after a full moon. Why hadn't he changed last night? Was it because he was still healing? Her hand stilled for a moment as an even more terrifying thought crossed her mind.

 _Could he change back?_

* * *

 **So, this chapter's a little short, but I felt like that was a pretty good place to leave it.**

 **A couple of you wanted Stiles to be something other than a werewolf, but since I'd already written his first full moon, I wasn't really sure what else I could make him that was more powerful than a werewolf. And anyway, Derek hasn't reached this point in his storyline yet, so technically it hasn't been done. And Stiles as a real wolf is still pretty bloody awesome.**

 **Also, I am not mimicking Derek's wolf form, just getting that out there.**

 **I will explain the circumstances more next chapter, and we'll definitely get into more lovely pack drama**

 **Please R &R ;D**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys xD**

 **Thanks so much for your wonderful reviews, I hope you like this chapter ;P**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

While Lydia sat by Stiles' side, Isaac had immediately called Scott and Derek, warning them both about Stiles' current form.

Stiles had appeared to be completely oblivious to what Isaac was doing, but the slight twitching of his hears told Lydia that he was hearing every single word. Whether he understood them or not was another matter.

He hadn't moved except to growl at Isaac when he kept trying to approach.

"Lydia, I don't like this," Isaac said. "Can you come back here, please?"

Lydia smiled encouragingly. "I'm fine, he's not going to do anything."

She was touched by his concern, but Stiles wouldn't hurt her. No matter what his form was. "Isn't that right, Stiles?" She said, brushing her hand over his fur. He looked up at her in response, before his attention snapped to something behind her.

Before even Isaac could hear them coming, Stiles had stood up on his four legs, placing himself protectively in front of Lydia as Scott, Derek and Kira ran into the clearing. He growled loudly, and though Lydia couldn't see, she was sure that he fangs were bared.

Kira had stumbled to a stop, but Stiles seemed to be focused on Scott and Derek, sensing the other werewolves and realizing that he was now outnumbered, three to one.

"Hey, stop!" Lydia told Derek, who had tried to come forward.

Scott kept his eyes trained on the wolf. "Are you ok, Lydia?"

She was really getting sick of them asking that question. "Yes, you have to stay back."

"Is that really Stiles?" Kira asked, turning to Scott. "Can you change him back?"

Scott looked extremely overwhelmed. "Maybe I change him back the same way as Malia?"

Derek's eyes widened. "Scott no," When the pack looked at him in confusion. "If you keep forcing him to turn back, he'll never learn control. He needs to find his anchor, just like you and Isaac did."

"How is he going to do that, he's a literal wolf." Isaac rebutted.

Scott and Lydia exchanged a glance. "He already has an anchor."

Lydia thought about the ritual that Scott, Stiles and Allison did to save their parents from the Darach. Deaton had said that they needed an anchor to bring them back, and then he'd told Lydia to go with Stiles.

But how was she supposed to convince him to turn back? "I can't do this with you all here, he's already made it clear that he doesn't like other werewolves."

She could tell that none of them wanted to leave.

"Guys, go! I'll be fine, I just think it's best if I do this alone."

Derek nodded to her, grabbing Isaac's arm and leading him back to the way they'd come. Kira and Scott reluctantly followed, but Lydia didn't miss the heartbroken look on Scott's face.

As soon as they'd left, Stiles visibly relaxed. He paced in a circle once, turning to look at Lydia before he began to trot off in the other direction.

"Hey! Stiles," She exclaimed, running after him. He wasn't moving overly fast, going at a leisurely pace. Lydia didn't know where he was going, but she couldn't let him out of her sight.

He didn't seem to be trying to evade her in any way, which led Lydia to the conclusion that he was trying to take her somewhere. She pushed herself to go faster, catching up to Stiles and matching his long stride.

By the time they stopped, her lungs burned and her already aching feet were completely numb. Her muscles had turned to jelly, and she put her hands on her knees to try and catch her breath.

Stiles didn't seem to be at all tired, he merely sat down like a dog and waited for her to recover from their cross-country run.

"Stiles, where are we...?" As she asked, she turned around and saw the gigantic tree stump in the middle of the forest.

The nemeton. A beacon to supernatural creatures.

Why would he bring her here? Stiles stepped forward to stand beside her, his eyes flashing blue as he looked up at her. "What?"

He nudged her behind the knee, indicating for her to walk. She cautiously approached the nemeton, slightly reassured that Stiles had stayed next to her.

Her eyes widened when she saw what Stiles had obviously been trying to show her. Carved onto the top of the massive stump were a group of symbols. Half of them she didn't even recognize, but the ones she did sent chills up her spine.

In the middle of the stump was the spiral marking for vendetta, and it was surrounded by a circle of other markings. She saw the symbols of both the Hale pack and the Alpha pack, the two of them defaced with a cross.

Scott's tattoo was there as well.

"Stiles, what is this?" She asked, glancing at the wolf. He was gazing intently at one of the symbols. "Is this like a list?"

He didn't acknowledge her at all. She huffed, turning away from the magic tree. What did it mean. Someone wanted revenge against all these packs? But Lydia had only ever seen a few of them, surely there weren't that many packs around.

"C'mon, we have to get you back to your dad."

He finally responded, leading her back into the trees, tracking their way back to his Jeep.

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Knowing that Stiles could somehow understand at least some of what she was saying, she had managed to talk him into changing back into his human form.

His wolf self had let out the quietest of whines at the pain of his body changing, and he sulked around to the back of the Jeep. It was a good thing that Lydia hadn't chased after him, because it wasn't until she saw his bare shoulders that she realized that he didn't have any clothes on.

Luckily, Stiles had his lacrosse bag in the back, which happened to have a spare pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. She waited for him, staying by the passenger door until she saw him open the driver's door and slid in.

Joining him in the car, she reached to grab his hand over the console, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Are you ok?" If she was sick of that question, she couldn't imagine how much it would be pissing him off, but he just left out a deep breath and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.

"I don't know, Lyds. I was just a wolf, an _actual_ wolf..." His voice shook slightly.

She grabbed his chin with her other hand and turned his face towards her. "Stiles, that only means that you're strong, and that's nothing to be ashamed of. Besides, you found something, something that may be extremely important, so we should go warn the others."

His gaze flickered away from hers for a second. "Can't I just go home?"

"We're in your car, I think it's up to you where we go." She replied, feeling a slight smile tug at her lips. She released her hold on his chin, and even though he had to pull his hand away to change gears every now and then, he still held onto her the entire drive back into town.

They didn't speak, but she could read on his face that he wanted to say something. His jaw kept clenching as he gritted his teeth in a nervous way. Every now and then his grip would tighten and then relax again.

"Stiles, what is it? She finally asked, turning her head.

His gaze flickered to her for a moment before he turned back to the road. "I just...I don't know how I'm going to handle this. I mean, how am I supposed to tell Dad? And what if I lose control at school or something?"

"That won't happen, because you'll learn to control it, I know you will. I'll help you, I promise."

Stiles looked away from the road, holding her gaze. Lydia stared up at him, sincerity in her eyes. "Thanks."

She smiled and told him to focus on driving. He hadn't really answered her about telling the pack about what he'd found, but she still wasn't particularly surprised when he pulled up in the driveway of her house.

She told herself that he was just exhausted, he wasn't avoiding his friends at all.

Lydia opened the door and faced Stiles once more before she got out. "Stiles, if you need any help, call me ok? Promise me that you will."

Stiles bit his lip, but he didn't hesitate before he answered. "I will."

Letting go of his hand, Lydia jumped down from the Jeep and walked to the front door of her house, turning back to see Stiles reversing out. She waved at him, waiting for the sound of Jeep's engine to disappear before she closed the door behind her.

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Stiles let out a breath as he parked Roscoe in his drive and cut the engine. Leaning his forearms against the steering wheel and hanging his head down, he finally let his carefully crafted composure fall apart.

He was just glad that he hadn't broken down when Lydia asked him what was wrong. Now, in the solitude of his car, a single tear fell down his cheek. Stiles didn't remember what he'd down after he lost control of the way to the reserve, but he remembered what he'd been feeling during that time.

He had _hated_ Scott, and Isaac and Derek. He had hated his pack. Stiles didn't want to hate to his best friend, but his wolf form was just judging off his inner feelings, his deep, buried anger. In some corner of his mind, he despised the members of his pack. Were they even his pack?

He was a wolf. A _wolf!_ How? Was it because Scott was a true alpha; had he somehow become more powerful because of Scott, or because of the Nogistune. Both?

Trying to take a steady breath, Stiles rubbed his face and got out of the Jeep. Heading inside, he was mildly surprised to see his dad standing in the kitchen.

The sheriff looked up when he heard the door close, and a tired smile stretched across his face as he laid eyes on Stiles.

Striding across the room, father and son collided in a warm embrace, Sheriff Stilinski holding onto Stiles tight. Stiles couldn't even imagine how his dad had been feeling the past few days; if Scott had been keeping him informed on what was going on, he would've been beside himself.

"I'm sorry, Dad." Stiles muttered into his father's shoulder.

Sheriff Stilinski tightened his embrace. "It's not your fault, Stiles. I'm just glad you're alright."

Hearing those words gave Stiles a rush of reassurance. In this life of constant chaos, the only thing that had stayed the same was his dad. Everything in his life had changed, except for his dad.

The two Stilinski boys pulled away and smiled. Falling onto the couch, they turned on Stiles' favourite movie, Star Wars, and watched until they had both fallen asleep.

* * *

 **Hey guys,**

 **Sorry about that longish wait and the rather uneventful chapter that didn't really answer any questions**

 **From now on I will definitely up the anty, so please hang in there for the next couple of chapters ;D**

 **Please R &R xD**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys!**

 **Oh My GOD the season 5 finale! I need to talk about it! PM me your thoughts, coz I'm really freaking out over it, and already feeling separation anxiety from the show!**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

Scott paced the living room of his home, his pack (except for Stiles and Lydia) gathered and sitting anywhere they could.

They had been waiting for a while now, coming straight back to the McCall house after finding the wolf that was actually Stiles. Moments ago Scott had received a call from Lydia, the banshee saying that she'd be there soon.

She hadn't elaborated about what had happened after she'd persuaded them to leave her with Stiles, merely stating that she'd explain everything when she got there, and that Stiles wouldn't be with her.

 _He's just tired. He just wants to see his dad and be at home, he's not going home because he hates you,_ he tried to reassure himself. Of course Stiles would be exhausted, he almost died and was turned into a werewolf, and then transformed into an actual wolf and went wandering through the woods for a day.

"Scott, just sit down," Kira said. She looked at him pleadingly, patting the couch beside her. "I know you're worried, but you need to relax."

Scott supposed she was right. The last few weeks had been beyond stressful for all of them; before they even knew that Stiles had been possessed they had thought that he was suffering from the same disease that had tragically killed his mother.

Letting out a sigh and running his hands through his hair, Scott sat beside Kira and rested his forearms against his legs. Kira gave him a small, apologetic smile, reached out and took one of his hands in hers.

The act suddenly pushed the memory of Allison's death to his mind. Swallowing against his dry throat, he pressed his eyes shut and tried to stop the tears from falling. Allison was gone. And he might be losing Stiles too.

At that moment, he heard the sound of a car approached, pulling into his driveway. The engine cut off, and seconds later Lydia entered the room. Scott's head shot up, his face adorned with a questioning expression.

The banshee shut the door behind her, and if Scott didn't know her any better, he would say she looked uncomfortable. He stood and strode over, wrapping the girl in his arms. Immediately, Lydia returned the gesture, burying her face in his shoulder.

They'd both gone through a lot, and in a sense both had lost their best friends. He was feeling their loss greatly, and though Allison wasn't there in person, Lydia seemed to carry her presence with her.

"Is he ok?" He asked, holding tight to his friend.

She nodded slightly. "He went home to see his dad. He looked exhausted." Lydia pulled back and took Scott's face in her hands. "Scott, it's going to be fine. We just have to help him, he has to come to terms with this."

Scott inclined his head, letting go of her. Lydia took a step back so she could address the entire pack.

"He found something in the Reserve, on the nemeton."

Derek frowned. " _On_ the nemeton?"

Lydia bit her lip, seeming to consider what to say next. "There was a whole bunch of symbols en-craved into the wood. I only recognized a couple, but it didn't look too good."

"Which ones did you know?"

Lydia met the former alpha's gaze, "The Hale pack symbol, Deucalion's, Scott's tattoo. And the vendetta spiral in the center of them all."

The members of McCall pack exchanged anxious glances. The last time someone had used that symbol, they'd gone on a murdering rampage.

"So someone wants revenge against these packs?" Isaac asked. He could understand wanting revenge against Deucalion, but he knew that Scott hadn't really done anything that would anger someone so much, and from he'd heard Thalia Hale had been a great alpha.

Lydia shrugged. She told them about the symbols that had been crossed out. Not all of the members of those packs were dead, so maybe the person who had put the marks there didn't want them all to die.

"Or maybe they just crossed them out because someone got to them first," Derek remarked, his voice bitter.

Lydia let out a shaky breath. "If someone is hunting us down, we need to make sure that Stiles can control himself. And Malia Tate too."

The werecoyote had approached Scott after being released from Eichen about learning to control her shifts. Scott had agreed, of course, and now he had Stiles to help as well. "Is it a good idea to be training them both at the same time? I mean, if they both lose control..."

Derek winced, remembering when Boyd and Erica had lost control on a full moon while he was teaching them. They'd almost ripped him to shreds, until Isaac came back. "That won't be a problem if we're with you."

Scott gave him a grateful smile. He had no idea how he was supposed to teach Stiles and Malia. Besides, Stiles had been the one to figure out what was happening to Scott in the first place. Even if he had no experience with being a werewolf, Stiles had least knew what situations to try and avoid, and he knew ways to regain control.

"Does that mean that we have two members that can take a full animal form?" Isaac said, looking slightly awestruck.

"I'm not so sure about that. Malia hasn't been able to turn at all since she became human again," Scott replied. Maybe with enough teaching she'd be able to do it.

He made a quick list of his pack members; a true alpha, three beta werewolves- including one that could fully transform- a kitsune, a banshee and a werecoyote. Not to mention Deaton, Chris Argent, the Sheriff and Melissa. He had a powerful pack, maybe they'd all be fine.

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Stiles squinted against the sun streaming into his room through gaps in the blinds over the window.

After falling asleep watching Star Wars with his dad, the Sheriff had woken up again sometime after the movie had ended, and had told Stiles to go up to his room and get some proper rest.

Stiles had been skeptical about the term, he hadn't slept properly in what felt like forever. He didn't think he could remember the last time he'd had a peaceful sleep. Still, he'd trudged up to his room, only half awake, and collapsed onto his bed.

Now he woke up again, feeling surprisingly well rested. He wasn't sure what day it was exactly (maybe Tuesday?) but he knew that he would be going to school. What would the other students say?

He'd become rather notorious, having panic attacks or going missing, being in Eichen House after his dementia scare. Teenagers gossiped over far less interesting stuff, and he knew that Allison had been victim to rumors because of things that her aunt had done, things that didn't have anything to do with her.

 _No, don't think about that stuff. Just get ready and try not to get too angry today._

Stiles reluctantly threw the bed sheets off him and got up. He showered and put on clean clothes, but he didn't even bother trying to do his hair, ever since he'd let it grow out it'd become a pretty much un-tamable mess.

His dad had already left for work, so Stiles just grabbed an apple and locked the front door behind him. Jumping into the Jeep, holding the apple in his mouth, he reversed out of the driveway and began driving in the direction of the school.

Pulling into a parking space a little under ten minutes later, Stiles killed the engine. Staring across the yard at the large cluster of buildings that was Beacon Hills High School, he felt an overwhelming sense of dread settle in his stomach.

The thought of being subjected to the other students' judgmental stares made him feel sick.

Taking a deep breath, Stiles began talking to himself in an effort to ease his anxiety. "It's ok, Stiles. It doesn't matter what they think. You have the pack, they'll support you, ok, you're fine."

He waited in the Jeep, deciding that he wasn't ready to go in on his own. He sighed in relief when he saw Kira's car park a few spaces away, hopping out to meet her.

"Hey Stiles," She said with a bright smile.

Attempting to cover up his anxiousness, Stiles responded with an easy grin. They waited in silence for everyone else to show up, Kira standing closer than necessary in an unspoken act of comfort that Stiles was incredibly grateful for.

After they stood there for a while and no one showed, Kira finally spoke. She could keep her mouth shut for about as long as he could. "Are you feeling better?" She asked.

Stiles nodded his head slightly, not entirely sure how to respond. "Um yeah, I am. Sorry, for... whatever I probably did."

"You didn't really do anything," She reassured hurriedly. "You just growled at everyone."

Stiles mouthed a silent 'oh', again stumped for an answer. Finally, He saw Lydia's Toyota park in front of them.

Looking impeccable as always, Lydia locked her car and approached them, brushing her hair over her shoulder. "What you guys waiting for?"

Without waiting for a response, she walked past them and left them no choice but to follow. The three of them walked up the stairs to the front entrance of the school, and Stiles unconsciously shifted closer to Lydia as they got closer.

Kira pushed open the door, and upon seeing the countless students in the hall, Stiles lashed out and grabbed Lydia's hand. Acting as though she didn't notice, she gave his an encouraging squeeze and continued to walk.

Some of the teens did a double take when they saw them, whether it was because he was back or if it was because he was holding hands with Lydia Martin, Stiles just wished that they'd turn away and mind their own business.

"Hey guys! Wait up."

Stiles turned at the sound of the all too familiar voice and saw Scott weaving his way towards them. He got very mixed feelings, joy, anger, shame. He was glad that Scott was here, but part of him held a grudge. Still, he found himself smiling back at his best friend, trying not to notice the obvious look of excitement that adorned the alpha's face when he saw Stiles grinning at him.

The four of them continued down the hallway to their lockers, knowing that Isaac was either already there or he was already at his class.

Stiles was glad that people seemed to leave him alone when his friends were there, something that changed when he went to Math. On top of missing countless classes during his time as the Nogistune, this class was the only one he had without any of his friends.

The teacher was writing equations that made Stiles head throb on the board, and Stiles prayed that she wasn't going to call for volunteers to come up and solve them.

Stiles could almost feel the stares on his back. He could smell the curiosity and apprehension in the room, he could hear the hearts of his peers pounding. His senses were overloaded with things he'd never noticed before. Every time someone tapped their pen or pencil, the girl brushing her hair over her shoulder, that guy scratching his neck, his buddy shifting in his chair.

Did Scott experience this all the time? And Isaac. Had Derek heard all these things since the day he was born?

Stiles' brain was being overloaded with too much sensory information. He was paying attention to everything and nothing all at once. Stiles ran a trembling hand over his face, anxiously chewing the nail of his thumb.

He could hear the pair of girls whispering in the back of the room, the teacher calling his name-

"Stiles. _Stiles._ " She was looking at him intently with eyebrows raised in concern.

Stiles shook his head, trying to block out the overwhelming sensations. "Um, sorry. I'm fine."

After he'd finished his sentence, the girls' conversation turned to him. " _Did you hear why he's been away for so long? Apparently he was in Eichen."_ He clenched his jaw and curled his hands into fists.

His already ADHD brain was overworking, run-down with sounds and feelings that he couldn't understand or rationalize. His fisted hands began to ache as his nails grew into claws, digging into the skin of his palms.

Before blood could start running down his wrists, Stiles abruptly stood from his seat, the chair making a screeching noise against the floor that made him jump. Without asking for permission to leave, Stiles made for the door, pushing it open with his shoulder and stumbling into the empty hallway.

Ignoring the voices calling at him, he bolted to the locker room. Heart pounding in his ears, Stiles locked the door behind him and clutched the edge of one of the sinks. Keeping his head down to catch his breath, his eyes flickered up to his reflection.

To his relief, his eyes were still their natural brown colour, but when he opened his mouth he saw that his teeth were elongating into fangs. The basin groaned in protest under the pressure he was putting on it, his hands gripping the porcelain with new, uncontrollable strength.

He couldn't turn at school. He'd promised himself that he wouldn't, he had said that he knew how to control it. He wasn't going to be the liability even now, now that he was no longer the human of the pack.

"Find your anchor, Stiles," He murmured through his fangs, feeling them poke into his lips. Suddenly an arch of pain shot through his body as he tried to combat the change, crushing the edges of sink in his hands.

Without the support of the basin, Stiles found himself staggering backwards, gripping his head and tearing his fingers through his hair. Every sound made his head pound; his heart, the clatter of porcelain falling to the floor, the teacher banging on the door.

Water began to spill from the broken sink, turning slightly pink as it mixed with the blood from Stiles' cut up hands. Already the wounds were healing over. Biting back a yell, Stiles managed to stand. He caught his glowing blue eyes in the mirror, which only served to make him feel worse.

He had killed innocent people, whether he was in control of his actions or not. Now, every time he turned he would be reminded of that. Lydia and Scott too. How could they even stand to be around him, knowing that he was a killer?

Filled with shame and rage, he smashed his fist into the glass, shattering his reflection. The heart beats outside jumped and pulsed louder at the noise, the banging on the door becoming more insistent as the teacher begged him to let her in.

Stiles furiously scrambled away from the sinks, further away from the door. "Find your anchor, don't lose it, Stiles. C'mon, just calm down!" Becoming even more frustrated at his inability to rein in his emotions, Stiles lashed out and pushed one of the locker cabinets, sending it crashing onto its side.

He regretted it immediately when the resounding racket assaulted his overly sensitive ears. Stiles almost yet out a bellowing yell, falling to his knees again, the agony of the shift crippling him.

"Stiles? What's going on?"

The wonderfully familiar voice cut through the other sounds around him. It overpowered the worried yells of his peers. Lydia, with her steady heartbeat and her calming voice.

Stiles dragged his fingers over the floor as he screwed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. He focused solely on Lydia, letting her presence wash over him. She continued to call his name and beg him to let her in, but he wasn't paying attention to what she was saying, he was just listening to her voice.

He listened as she convinced the teacher to go back to her class, explaining his actions as the onset of a panic attack, and that the commotion they were causing was just making it worse. Reluctantly agreeing on the terms that Stiles' father and the relevant authority figures would be notified, the teacher herded the members of her class back to the room, leaving Lydia alone at the door.

"Stiles? Can you let me in?"

He tried to call out to her, only for his voice to come out in a growl. Moments later, he heard the lock click and Lydia opened the door, pulling a hairpin out of the key hole. Stiles didn't know that she knew how to pick locks.

Her movements were cautious as she scanned the damage in the locker room, and he could smell the wariness as her eyes locked on him. She shut the door behind her, locking it again before she carefully made her way towards him.

"Stiles, it's ok." She crouched down in front of him. He kept repeating in his mind - _find your anchor_ \- and hearing her heart and her voice was enough for him to gain the smallest portion of control.

Lydia placed one of her hands on top of Stiles'. "You can control this. Remember, you can figure it out, you always figure it out."

Stiles took a deep breath, unconsciously leaning forward towards Lydia, breathing in the scent of her perfume, seeking out the comfort he always felt around her. Yet again, Lydia helped him gain control, just being around her made it easier to shift back.

But forcing his features to change still wasn't a pleasant experience. Lydia tightened her grip when he choked out a yell as his teeth and nails shrunk back to their normal length, as his body took on its human form again.

He collapsed against Lydia in relief and she wrapped her arms around him, murmuring in his ear. He rested his forehead on her shoulder, closing his eyes and savoring her embrace, trying not to shiver as Lydia trailed her hand through his hair.

He'd been kidding himself when he thought he was over her.

* * *

 **Oh my lord, sorry that took so long! I was on holiday and there wasn't any reception at all, so I haven't been able to work on it much, and I couldn't really find a place to end it, but at least this a longer chapter!**

 **I hope you all enjoyed it, I'm not too sure how I feel about it?**

 **Anyways, please R &R, it is always appreciated ;D**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys!**

 **Hope you all enjoy this chapter ;D**

* * *

Lydia sat with Stiles in the locker room, holding him in her arms and threading her fingers through his hair.

It was pure luck that she'd had a free period when she got the familiar cold feeling that something bad was happening, and knowing that Stiles had his next class by himself, she felt an overwhelming urge to check that he was ok.

The two of them didn't say anything, Stiles keeping his face buried in the crook of her neck, avoiding the damage he'd caused. Lydia had been able to come up with an excuse for his odd behavior, but she had no idea how they were going to explain the wreckage. Maybe they'd just leave before someone came to check on them and claim someone else did it?

"Stiles, come on, we have to get out of here." She said, pulling back gently.

He nodded, steadily rising to his feet. Lydia took his hand and started to lead him down the hall. She was certain that he'd heard her discussion with his teacher, and was surprised when he didn't protest to being taken to the nurse's office. Though, she knew he was smart enough to realize that it was vital to maintaining his cover.

Stiles had insisted that he could talk to the nurse, so she had waited. Five minutes later he came back out, saying that the nurse had told him to go home and rest, making a very big point about seeing the counselor.

Without thinking twice about it, Lydia offered to drive him home.

"What about the Jeep?" He said. "Lyds, I can drive, I'm fine."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Stiles, Scott can get it after school, just let me drive you home. Besides, the school wouldn't be very happy with me if you let you drive right after having a panic attack."

"I didn't have a panic attack, though."

"They don't know that."

She wasn't sure why she was so determined, but she wanted to show him that he was allowed to have help. She knew that Stiles liked to keep his problems to himself; no matter how blatantly obvious it was that he was struggling with something, he would always insist that he was fine.

Stiles relented, and if Lydia wasn't mistaken, she could swear that he had a tiny smile of his face. He went to the passenger side of her Toyota, and she pulled out of the school carpark.

"Don't you still have classes?" He asked, turning his head to look at her.

Lydia shrugged. "Haven't I already told you that I have enough credits to graduate already?"

Stiles made an expression like, 'oh, fair enough' and leaned back in his seat. He chewed his bottom lip for a second, his hands drumming on his knees. "Uh, thank you, for what you did at the locker room. And for driving me home."

Lydia smiled at him. "It's fine, Stiles. You know I'll always be there to help you."

He nodded, his hands stilling for a moment. "I almost had it, I was almost in control."

"That's great. It's a start. You just need to practice."

She tried not to sound like she was coddling him, but she kept feeling this surge of protectiveness for him. Plenty of her friends had already gone through the change that he was going through, but somehow it felt different. Stiles had always been the human of the pack, and now he was one of the strongest of them.

Stiles nodded in response to her encouragement. She really hoped that Stiles and Malia would have time to learn control over the shift before they were bombarded with threats. She knew that Scott had been hunted on his _first_ full-moon, same with Isaac.

But, with their luck, they probably wouldn't.

The two of them fell into comfortable silence, and they were only a couple minutes away from Stiles' house when a noise ripped through the air. Lydia braked immediately, glad no one was behind her.

Something had just howled.

Stiles whipped his head in the direction it had come from. "That was Derek!"

"Are you sure?" She asked. She knew that they could tell apart the different calls of the pack, but surely Stiles couldn't yet. But still, Stiles urged her to turn around.

"Yes I'm sure! Quick, there might be trouble!"

Not needing to be told twice, Lydia spun the steering wheel into the tightest turn her car could manage, planting her foot down on the accelerator and tearing down the streets towards Derek's loft.

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Lydia slammed the door of her Toyota behind her and tore after Stiles. He'd always been fast, but now with his added physical prowess, she didn't really stand a chance at keeping up.

Still, she took the stairs three at a time. She didn't know what she'd do to help when she got up there, but she'd didn't slow to consider her options. When she reached Derek's loft, Stiles had already flung the massive door open.

Lydia had barely set foot in the apartment when there was a massive crash as Derek was thrown into one of the walls. The attacker was another werewolf, a large man with rippling muscles visible beneath his torn shirt.

Lydia hurried to Derek's side, watching as Stiles' eyes shone blue and he bared his fangs at the other werewolf. He let out a menacing roar and leaped forward to intercept the intruder as he moved to attack Lydia.

Stiles immediately took on the offensive, fighting with a ferocity that Lydia had never thought she'd see on him. His claws tore relentlessly into the other werewolf's flesh, and in an massive burst of strength, Stiles ducked under his answering swing and grabbed him around the arm, slinging him to the opposite side of the room.

Seeing her chance, Lydia sprinted the rest of the way to Derek, hoping that someone else would arrive soon. The former alpha was starting to get up, blood coating the side of his face from a wound above his eyebrow.

Lydia couldn't help but think of the similar head wound that Cora had gotten, and felt a surge of worry flood through her. She knew that head wounds always looked worse than they were, and she could see that it had already stopped bleeding, but she remembered that Cora's head wound had cost Derek his status as an alpha.

Meanwhile, Stiles was valiantly fighting the larger werewolf in the room. He could feel his eyes burn, his teeth were fangs, his muscles quivered with unbelievable strength.

The werewolf had come back firing after being thrown across the loft, but Stiles met him blow for blow. The other man's eyes shone gold, meeting Stiles' cold blue stare. He managed to gain an advantage over the newly turned teenager, slashing his claws over his torso, before he grabbed Stiles by the throat and smashed him into the ground.

Stiles got up quick, pushing up with his hands to kick the other werewolf in the face, causing his nose to gush with blood. His opponent staggered back at the force behind Stiles' kick, giving the teenager time to jump to his feet again.

Before Stiles could gain the upper-hand, however, the other's eyes flared and he attacked with new, angry, ferocity. Claws flashing, the werewolf swiped out, dragging the sharp tips of his fingers across Stiles' face, narrowly missing the teenager's glowing blue eye.

Stiles roared out in pain, stumbling back as he was blinded by the blood running down his face. Wiping away the liquid, Stiles raised his arms to block the strike coming for his neck. He ducked, kicking his leg out in a low sweep and knocking his opponent to the ground.

Not hesitating for a moment, Stiles' vision blurred as he leaned over the other werewolf and threw his fist into his already bleeding nose. Stiles' claws raked four identical tears through the man's torn shirt into his skin. He saw the man's left hand begin an arc for his head, and as he moved to duck, he found himself being grabbed from the back and torn off the werewolf.

Whirling to face his attacker, he stopped short at the sight of Scott's blood red gaze. Yanking Stiles off him had allowed the other werewolf to climb to his feet, blood pouring from his wounds, confronting the famous Alpha and his new, powerful Beta.

As well as the Kitsune, another Beta, and the former alpha he had been fighting before the others arrived. In short, he was outnumbered and very much out-gunned.

Knowing that it was beyond stupid to fight the infamous McCall pack, the intruder spun on his heel and dived through the glass wall, preferring to deal with the drop from the top floor.

Stiles immediately started after him, but Scott held him back. "Let him go, Stiles. It's ok."

There was a sharp noise of sliding metal as Kira returned her katana to its sheath at her belt. Derek was back on his feet, the wound healed over

Lydia trotted across the room from where she stood beside Derek, reaching up to touch Stiles' face. He almost didn't realize what she was doing, until he noticed the sting of the slash across his cheek.

"It'll heal, Lydia," He muttered, words he'd never thought he'd say foreign on his lips.

She blinked, as if she remembered that Stiles wasn't a vulnerable human anymore. Stiles blinked too, feeling the burn of his eyes and the heightened vision disappear as they turned back to brown.

"How did you two get here so quick?" Isaac asked, somewhat suspiciously.

Glancing down at Lydia, Stiles chewed his lip, silently begging her not to tell them about his episode in the locker room.

"It doesn't matter," Lydia discreetly brushed it off. "Why was that werewolf here?" She changed the subject, turning to Derek.

The former alpha regarded the group of teenagers before him, rising his shoulders in a shrug. "I don't know. He said something about money, and a list."

"Not like the list that Stiles found?" Scott questioned in alarm, but Derek shook his head.

"No not like that."

Isaac frowned. "So you mean there are _two_ lists. And we're on both of them?"

Silence washed over the pack as they took it in. They were on two hit lists?

"This is bad guys. We need to know who wants us dead." Kira stated, nervously running her fingertip over of hilt of her katana.

Derek creased his brow. "It's not just us they want dead, whoever it is."

"So they're targeting supernatural creatures. Maybe its a hunter." Isaac suggested, but Stiles shook his head.

"No, a hunter wouldn't pay someone else to do their dirty work."

Lydia nodded in agreement. Hunters definitely preferred to do things themselves, she thought, her mood darkening as she recalled Allison's constant insistence that she could protect herself.

"We should get out of here before someone comes back. If that werewolf was willing to go after his own kind for that money, who knows who else will come after us." Scott said, starting to walk for the door.

* * *

 **Woah it has been a while!**

 **So sorry! This chapter is a bit short and I'm not particularly happy with it, but we got a fight scene! And Stiles was awesome!**

 **Sorry I haven't updated, all my midterms have been going on and I don't cope well with stress at all, but I tried my best :P**

 **Please R &R ;D**


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